


The Places You Will Find Me Hiding

by fictorium (orphan_account)



Series: Lasagna [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adultery, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina/David, sequel to your other two Evil Charming fics: David remembers FTL. Take that where you will. :)</p><p>Would you be open to doing another sequel to “These Gestures That We Made” and “They Both End in Trouble (And Start with a Grin)”? If so, Evil Charming, post-finale: he shouldn’t be surprised that he still craves her, even now that he’s got his family and his memories and himself back; Regina did always have a way of ruining everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Places You Will Find Me Hiding

He’s not the last person she expects to come knocking on the door, but it’s close.

 

Regina watches from her mirror for a long while, waiting for him to give up. The glass ripples as he paces, the distortions matching his heavy footsteps on the porch. She brushes out her hair, another old habit designed to soothe her, but she simply finds her movements becoming more agitated with every stroke.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s still waiting, and she drops the ivory-backed brush on her dresser in frustration. She’s defended this newly-fortified home of hers with lightning and curses and flying knives so far, and the newly awakened citizens of Storybrooke learned their lesson quickly. Regina has been left to her own devices, pacing and plotting, sleeping only for a few disturbed hours when the sun goes down.

 

He knocks again, as though sensing her movement towards the stairs. This time there’s nothing polite in the sound, it’s the angry pounding of a fist against already battered wood. Regina picks up the pace, anger at the intrusion bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

 

“What?” She demands, throwing the door open. If he attacks her, she’ll have him bound and on the ground with a flick of her wrist, and she hopes he remembers at least that much. His bloodline is not exactly known for its intelligence.

 

“Why?” He asks, and Regina notes with a sigh of disgust that he’s been crying. She’s become used to the affable, more malleable David Nolan, but when she sees tears in his eyes Regina only sees a pretender to the throne, an extension of Snow and everything she took away; he doesn’t have the right to cry. “You took everything,” he says, and there’s a hint of the snarl in his words. There’s no sword in his hand though, and Regina considers that for a second.

 

“Because I could,” she says, and that’s close to being honest. “Because you all deserved it.”

 

“You…” he seems at a loss for words, and Regina rolls her eyes at his lack of preparation. “You slept with me,” he finishes, weakly. Regina tilts her chin up in defiance. For all her many transgressions, she will not take blame for that. The curse left them with free will, after all.

 

“And you slept with Kathryn,” Regina points out. “Although in our case, I don’t recall much sleeping.”

 

“Abigail,” James corrects. “Her name is Abigail, and we were friends, before. Now she hates me. And Snow won’t even look at me.”

 

“She’ll get over it,” Regina snaps. “After all, if you truly loved each other, it would have broken through the curse.”

 

“It did!” James protests. “It tried to. And every step of the way, there you were: manipulating us; manipulating everything.”

 

“I was trying to preserve the curse,” Regina tells him. “Now if you’re done ranting about your hard life, I have things to do.”

 

She’s closing the door as she says it, intent on shutting him out with his perfectly valid pain and his teary-eyed complaints. He surprises her with the speed of his reaction, with the force that send the door flying from her grip. It hits the wall with a bang and an ominous creak of the hinges. Regina steps back, alarmed. She raises her hand in self-defense, mentally scrambling for defensive spells; she hates how rusty the whole process feels. Her greatest fear, since the magic came flowing back, is that it will be finite. Every time she lifts her hand or wriggles her fingers, Regina remembers twenty-nine years of nothing, of feeling stripped bare and all too vulnerable. She fires a few sparks in warning, relieved and indignant in equal measure.

 

But James keeps coming, charging forward like the hot-headed peasant he’s always been. Regina is backed against the wall of her own foyer, but she doesn’t fear him, not in any real way.

 

“Oh, Charming,” she sighs. “I see you’re still intent on blaming me for all your problems.”

 

“Go to hell,” he spits, and she’s so distracted by the way the venom darkens those pale blue eyes, that she doesn’t see the slap coming. The pain spreads across her cheek like wildfire, and she closes her eyes to hide the sudden welling of tears. Regina’s been gritting her teeth and acting unhurt by attacks like that for longer than James has been alive, and when she opens her eyes again she fixes him with a steady glare.

 

“Get. Out,” she warns. “Or I will throw you out.” She prods at her cheek, moving her jaw to make sure there’s no real damage.

 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” He asks, shaking out his hand. Good, Regina hopes the palm is stinging worse than her face.

 

“What?” She asks, her tone mocking; she can’t help herself. “To be forced to live a life you didn’t ask for? To have everything you love put beyond your reach?”

 

“And you accuse me of self-pity?” James challenges. “It seems to me we were all banished for little more than a temper tantrum. Tell me, Regina,” he continues, the sneer tugging at his otherwise pretty mouth. “Are you really a Queen? Or just another spoiled little girl who never grew up?”

 

“Be careful,” Regina warns, the anger flaring up again, white hot in her veins. A hundred terrible spells tumble into her mind, each fate more horrible than the last. “You, foolish as ever, showed up here unarmed and still assaulted me. Are you trying to make me hurt you, Charming?”

 

“I remember everything,” he says, and the anguish in it catches Regina quite off-guard. She’s braced for further insults, and hears this instead. “I remember the man I used to be and the love I had for Snow, for my wife.”

 

“Spare me,” Regina scoffs. “I’m sure that forgiving heart of hers will welcome you back, regardless of what you did.”

 

“She already forgave me,” James confesses, and now he can’t meet Regina’s gaze. The dirt on his battered work boots has suddenly become fascinating to him, and Regina waits impatiently. “But I can’t forgive myself,” he adds, but when he meets Regina’s eye again, he doesn’t exactly look contrite.

 

“Oh,” Regina breathes, understanding all too well. “That’s the problem, is it? All that time away from your true love made you realize there were… alternatives.”

 

“I love her,” James insists. “You know I do.”

 

“Yes,” Regina sighs. “I’ve met the evidence, remember? But you’re still here, true love or not. If you haven’t come to kill me…”

 

“No,” James admits. “And I didn’t intend to hit you either. For that, I apologize.”

 

“Don’t,” Regina says, laying one hand flat on his chest. The cotton of his shirt is warm and worn beneath her palm. She clutches at the fabric, feeling his heart beat faster at her touch. “You know I don’t mind when you get a little rough,” she adds. “Which is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

 

“I—” he attempts.

 

“Tell me,  _David_ ,” Regina says, knowing her smile must be positively wicked. “Is vanilla just not doing it for you anymore?”

 

“Stop it,” he says, but it’s as weak as David Nolan ever was, not even enough conviction to dupe a trusting soul like Snow White. “I don’t want…”

 

“Me?” Regina pounces, her nails digging into his flesh now, even through the material of his shirt. “Oh, but I think we both know that you do.”

 

She presses a surprisingly tender kiss to his jaw, just to the right of that dimpled chin. Her lipstick isn’t freshly applied, but it leaves a faint impression that she wipes away firmly with her thumb. She watches his face for a reaction, and when his lips part slightly she has it. Regina kisses him full on the mouth this time, and there’s not a scrap of tenderness in the angry, challenging way that she mashes her lips against his.  _Push back_  she silently challenges.  _Tell me there’s a man in there after all_.

 

Something in the charged moment makes him react, and Regina feels her head meet the wall with a dull thump as he takes over the kiss, invading her mouth with a forceful tongue that leaves her almost light-headed, and not a little breathless when they finally relent.

 

“Well,” Regina says, when her breathing evens out. She pinches David’s chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing him to hold her gaze. “If we do this now, you know what it means?”

 

“No curse, no excuse,” James says, his words blunt even though his bottom lip is trembling. “This is all on me.”

 

Regina laughs then, and really it’s more of a witch’s cackle, but it’s just so delicious to see him undone like this. Snow isn’t much fun to torture, because of all her righteous self-pity, but Charming breaks as easily as crystal, and every time he puts himself back together Regina can smash him again. It’s almost too easy, now.

 

He kisses her neck this time, probably just to stop the mocking laughter, and Regina feels the sound die in her throat under the bruising pressure of his mouth. Not for Prince Charming those tender spots to be caressed with a lover’s care, no he sets her nerve endings alight with the forceful nips and sucks that say he’s going to leave her marked and not care about it in the slightest. Regina squeezes his shoulders in encouragement, because although she can erase every bruise with a wave of her hand, part of her is already fantasizing about how it would feel to waltz past Snow and tell her just whose pretty mouth left so much evidence behind.

 

“Come on, Charming,” Regina teases as he runs his tongue over the dip in her clavicle. She isn’t exactly dressed for company, and he’s had no problem slipping his hand under her simple black tanktop as his mouth trails towards the thin strap at her shoulder. “Is that really all you’ve got?” Regina persists.

 

His hand retreats then, and Regina wonders if she’s pushed him too far, too soon. But the evidence of his arousal is already prodding her hip, and she’s never given up this early in a battle. Her fear is misplaced though, because James puts those strong hands on her ass and lifts her up as though she were no more substantial than a feather; she’s always liked that strength in him. An inherited broadness of shoulders that only the working men had, and it reminds her so painfully of Daniel for a moment that Regina finds herself blinded by hot tears.

 

She blinks them away, wrapping her legs around James and digging her heels in just at the bottom of his back; he isn’t the only one who knows how to make it hurt.

 

“What you you want?” She asks, the question nobody ever bothered to ask her. James buries his face in her cleavage, his mouth hot and insistent as he pulls the fabric of her top down with his teeth. “James, what do you want?”

 

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbles against her skin. “That’s not my name.”

 

“Alright,” Regina says, her skin alight and her mind already a little cloudy. “What, then?”

 

“David,” James pants. “You made him, so call me that.”

 

Because David doesn’t belong to Snow White, David never lied about his royal lineage, and because David has already given himself up to Regina in every way imaginable, she supposes. Fine, Regina decides as his lips graze a hardening nipple through her bra, she can give him that much (but no more, not a single thing more than she’s willing to offer).

 

“David,” Regina agrees, running her fingers through his soft hair, and he’s been letting it grow out while she’s been in exile. It’s long enough to get a grip on now, to tug his head back and claim another slightly desperate kiss. It isn’t supposed to be about that, it never has been, but Regina’s long been able to recognize a last time when she sees it. “What do you want?” She repeats, feeling unusually safe in his arms.

 

“You,” he says, voice rough. “Now.”

 

“Upstairs,” Regina says, tugging at his shirt now, shoving it off his shoulders and he shakes it free as they move towards the stairs through his halting steps. He’s distracted and diverted by Regina’s hands and mouth on him, by his own incessant need to touch her, and her tank top and bra join his shirt and undershirt in a trail on the first few steps that they stumble up in a flurry of kissing and clutching at each other. Warm, bare skin feels so good beneath her hands that Regina is already drunk on the feel of him, and she isn’t careful in the slightest about her own possessive marks on that pale flesh. He doesn’t stop her, doesn’t complain or protest about the very good reasons why not.

 

They’re not going to make it to the bedroom, she realizes, but it’s not as though there’s anyone else in the house to interrupt them. Regina unwraps her legs from around him, dropping easily to her feet on a higher step, evening out the height difference between them in an instant. She smiles, but it’s not a happy one, as she unbuckles his belt. James, for his part is already tugging at the black yoga pants she’s been comfortable in all day. It’s not long until they’re stripped to underwear, faintly ridiculous in the middle of the grand staircase.

 

He seizes her then, wrapping her up in those arms that could comfort her or kill her just as easily. Regina finds herself struggling slightly of breath as he pulls her close, but as he moves to grasp at her breasts, Regina finds herself relaxing again. His touch isn’t the most precise, but the kneading of his hands is firm and Regina arches up into the warmth of his fingers.

 

“Do you hate me?” She asks, shattering the relative quiet of their accelerated breathing and the pounding of her own heart. “I mean, we can still… but do you?” Regina tilts her chin in what she hopes looks like defiance; she has to know.

 

He looks at her for what feels like a very long time, hands dropping to grip her waist.

 

“No,” he says finally, with a shake of his head as though confirming it to himself. “I don’t.”

 

“Oh,” she breathes. “That’s unexpected.”

 

“I don’t know why not,” David says, one hand sliding down to squeeze her ass. Regina follows him with her own hands, shimmying out of her panties and standing naked before him. When he nods, she yanks his boxers down and this time when their bodies press together there’s no barrier between them. He tries to lead, but it’s Regina who steers them to the level ground of the second floor landing.

 

They aren’t going to make it any further, and so Regina drops to her knees on the immaculate cream carpet, leaving one hand to drag over his taut stomach, her nails leaving angry pink lines over the muscles there.

 

“Does she do this for you?” Regina asks, taking his erection in her hand and looking up at him. Maybe there’s a smirk playing across her lips, and maybe there isn’t; she’s past the point of caring how real he thinks she is. (He doesn’t hate her, despite everything, and Regina’s lived so long in these extremes of love or hate that it feels like starting over to discover there’s anything like middle ground.)

 

“I can’t,” he says, the last betrayal dying on the tip of his tongue. “We can’t talk about that.”

 

“You can’t,” Regina accuses, brushing her lips over the head of his straining cock in the very lightest of touches. It twitches even at that, and Regina smiles at the power she holds over him. “But I can,” she says, wrapping her fingers around the base but opting to press kisses to his thigh instead, to the lines of his hipbones. The accidental touch of her hair and then her shoulder against the side of his erection makes James hiss in anticipation, and Regina prolongs her teasing for a long minute or two.

 

“Your precious Snow White won’t get down on her knees, will she?” Regina teases, moving her circled fingers lightly back and forth. “Those born to royalty think themselves too good for that. But you and I are different, David. Aren’t we?”

 

If he intends to answer, it’s swallowed in the groan of satisfaction when Regina first slips the head past her lips and sucks gently. She swirls her tongue experimentally, tasting the first salty drops against satiny skin. He sighs, and threads the fingers of one hand through her hair.

 

Regina works her mouth incrementally along the length of him, teasing with her tongue and relaxing her throat. She has no intention of getting him off this way, but she wants to remind him that she could. James bucks his hips at every new sensation, his grip tight as he tugs at her scalp, but Regina sets the pace and doesn’t let him shake her from it.

 

He’s breathing hard when she pulls away, and Regina’s barely started to lean back before he’s on her, pushing her hard against the floor.

 

“Now,” he breathes against her neck. “Now,” he repeats, pressing determined fingers between her thighs. He groans when he discovers how slick she is, how ready for him.

 

“Yes,” Regina agrees. “I’m yours to take,” she adds, her voice almost a purr now as he seeks out the parts of her that make her body sing. “But not like this,” she corrects, laying her hands on his chest and pushing him up and off of her.

 

For a moment, David looks devastated, having fallen for another trick. The hurt on his face is so intoxicating that Regina is tempted to spite her own pleasure and confirm his mistaken assumption, but the ache between her thighs wins the argument in record time.

 

“Like this,” Regina explains, turning over and positioning herself on her hands and knees. She doesn’t want to see his face this time, doesn’t want to see the self-loathing in his eyes. She wants to get off, wants it to hurt in the very best way, and if he hates himself afterwards then Prince Charming can go and have one of his very soulful cries about it.

 

He takes the less-than-subtle hint right away thank God, shuffling closer on his knees and grabbing her hips with fingers that press hard enough to bruise. Perhaps a little residual anger, then, Regina thinks with a smirk. She looks back over her shoulder, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

 

“Make it good,” she threatens, turning back and dropping her head just a little as her shoulders tense. She feels his cock press against her entrance, but instead of pushing right inside James guides the head along the length of her, sliding easily through the wetness that’s already spread down to the tops of her thighs.

 

“You don’t get to call all the shots,” he says quietly, but there’s no mistaking the power in his voice. Regina feels the thrill course down her spine at the cadence alone. “I’ve let you do things to me that nobody else would ever ask,” James continues, and he’s running his hands from Regina’s hips along her sides now, fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm as they skim back and forth over her ribs.

 

“You liked those things,” Regina reminds him, not looking round. The sweat is pooling at the base of her neck and the base of her spine, the heat in the house is swirling around them as the tension creaks up another notch. Regina shoves her hips back towards him, hinting that her patience is wearing thin. She hasn’t brought him up here for conversation.

 

“So impatient,” James huffs, but he pulls one hand back to guide his cock back into position. He hesitates, and Regina wonders if he has it in him now to spite them both, but as she opens her mouth to ask her lips form a perfect ‘o’ at the sensation of being slowly stretched and filled by him.

 

It feels better, even, than she remembered. Regina’s had her share of uninspiring sex, but what James lacks in finesse he’s more than made up for in enthusiasm. The raw athleticism of his body feels tuned to her own, and Regina rolls her hips in encouragement as he draws back and sinks in once more, a strangled gasp of pleasure falling from his mouth as he does.

 

“Make me feel it,” she says through gritted teeth. “I don’t want a gentleman right now, David.”

 

He laughs at that, and it’s a singularly hollow sound. But his next thrust makes their flesh slap together in a far more noticeable way, and Regina sighs in appreciation. Yes, she’s going to feel this tomorrow. She’ll have some reminder when he’s gone slinking back to his wife and his quest to save them all.

 

“Gods,” James grunts as he begins to pick up the pace. His hands slip around her waist now, and before Regina knows what’s coming she feels a strong arm wrap fully around her and pull her up. Her hands leave the ground, and she reaches instinctively to make him release her, but James won’t be deterred. “It’s better, like this,” he says, and it’s hard to deny when his more shallow thrusts start hitting her g-spot each time.

 

“Fuck,” Regina says in what might be either agreement or dissent. He takes it as a sign to continue, regardless, and Regina feels that familiar pressure begin to mount in her base. She stops clawing at his forearm, reaching back over her shoulder to clutch at his neck, and that shift in angle has her done for in a few short, sharp thrusts.

 

The stars in her vision fade quickly enough, and James is still hard inside her, the movement of his hips more erratic now. On instinct, Regina slides a hand over the planes of her stomach and seeks out her clit, rubbing herself frantically to a second climax as James comes with a choked back roar inside her.

 

Sated, they both fall to the floor, Regina happy to be pinned under the warm weight of him. When James catches his breath he pulls out, rolling to one side and staring up at the ceiling. Regina shifts too, but onto her side so she can watch him; she has no idea what in the hell happens now.

 

He scrubs one of those big hands over his face, ruffling his hair and leaving momentary white trails from the pressure of his fingertips. James exhales loudly, and Regina wants to smack him in his stupid, broad chest just to make him get on with it.

 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says, and it’s maybe the first time all day that he’s sounded sure of everything.

 

“Right,” Regina sighs, rolling onto her back. She doesn’t feel any urge to cry, and for being spared that humiliation, she’s grateful. “Well, if the family are waiting…”

 

“I don’t want this to be another reason for anyone to hate you,” James says firmly. “I want there to be peace.”

 

“Tell your daughter to give me back my son, then,” Regina spits before she can think better of it. This is the first hour in weeks that her thoughts haven’t been consumed by Henry. She supposes this reaction might be what guilt feels like; that’s just another thing she’s gotten rusty at.

 

“That’s not up for negotiation,” James reminds her, sitting up then. “Although I do think you and Emma can make some kind of arrangement.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it now,” Regina says, covering her eyes with her hand.

 

“Soon, then,” James insists, getting awkwardly to his feet. “I really do have to get back,” he adds, at least having the decency to sound embarrassed about this part.

 

“Give my regards to your wife,” Regina says snippily. She isn’t surprised when James leans over her, lifting her arm away from her face.

 

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, quite seriously. Regina’s too exhausted to laugh in his face. It’s taken decades and two worlds and they’re no further forward, but James just got to fuck a Queen, so he thinks he can do anything. So predictable, these men. No wonder Regina’s developed a penchant for having them killed.

 

“Whatever you say, dear,” Regina says, but she sits up then, and pulls herself to standing on still-shaky legs using the bannister. “You’ll see yourself out?”

 

“Regina,” James starts to say, but she cuts him off with a wave.

 

“It’s fine,” she says, and if it sounds a little sad then it can’t be helped. “I already knew it was over. Call this a last hurrah, if you like.”

 

“Will you—” he begins, but Regina’s already held both sides of this conversation in her head.

 

“I won’t tell her,” Regina sighs. “She wouldn’t believe me even if I did. Your secrets are safe with me, Charming.”

 

“Thank you,” he says, starting towards the stairs and his discarded clothes. “I meant what I said: I will fix this.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Regina lies smoothly. “If you’ll excuse me,” she adds. “I’m going to take a shower.”

 

James hesitates one last time, and so Regina takes the decision out of his hands, moving quickly down the hall towards the bathroom. She’s safely inside and running the water for the shower when the door slams, a few minutes later.

 

Regina checks her reflection in the mirror for a fleeting second, but the room is filling with steam and for once she doesn’t like what she sees. She steps into the shower, the heat engulfing her in a second. And if a few tears fall when the water runs over her face? Well, Regina thinks, nobody ever needs to know.


End file.
